» Schadenfreude

Glastonbury 97
The year of the great quagmire, those who couldnt hack it went home (bands included - where did THAT get you now, Kenickie??) Those who stayed looked at eachother and promptly doubled the amounts of drugs they consumed to cope with it all.

Prodigy, hot on the back of their long awaited fat of the land album, had the much coveted friday night headline slot, and took to the stage like overexcited twats, proceeding to spend more time running up and down telling us who they were and how mental they were, rather than making with the songs, while the rest of us stood in the foot-deep shit, unable to dance properly due to wellied feet glued to the bedrock, and soaked to the bone.

20 minutes in, "Maxwell" approaches the front of the stage, and embarks on an extensive rant which went as follows:

"WE ARE THE PRODIGY *SCRATCHY-SCRATCH!* WE ARE UNSTOPABBLE! *SCRATCHY SCRATCH! NO FUCKER CAN BRING US DOWN! AN EARTHQUAKE COULDN'T STOP US! A FUCKINTIDAL WAVE COULDN'T STOP US! *SCRATCHY-SCRATCH!* A HURRICA-WHEEEEEEEEEE-choomp."

And as the stage lights immediately died, along with the entire mainstage sound system, and it became clear that the perpetually pissing rain had induced an impromptu interlude; quite a few thousand punters pointed as one and went "...aaaaahahahahahahahah!"

One of the best gigs of my life.
(Thu 24th Dec 2009, 19:34, More)

» Celebrities part II

Steve Coogan is a Knob
Friend of mine used to run an Unwins on western road in brighton and got a call shortly before closing one night, the guy turns up ten minutes later and turns out to be the chauffeur for a rather wankered coogan who spilled out the back seat (passenger seat was empty for some reason) brandishing a list of booze.
My mate went to get it and started to help coogan load up, at which point he shoves him away going "fuck off, fuck off, I can fucking do it, fuck off".
My mate stands back and looks at the chauffeur who waved an apology and made the twirly-finger gesture at his temple to suggest that coogan was well and truly gone that night.
They drove off with Coogan scowling out the window at him, only for my mate to look down and see he'd left a box containing three bottles of JD, 6 packets of fags, and a bottle of stolychniya on the pavement.

As I was sofa surfing at his flat without a penny to my name at the time; they helped me drink away my unemployment for the next 4 days.

Cheers Steve, you space cadet cunt.
(Tue 13th Oct 2009, 1:49, More)

» Siblings

Pissing little brother
My younger brother used to be too scared to go down the dark corridor at night to use the toilet so used to piss in a variety of things in his room, rendering them unusable. His castle grayskull was the first receptacle of choice, then a giant bag of lego which made all the pieces stick together. Once when we were coming back from france on the hovercraft, on a particularly choppy crossing, he went off to the toilet only to return ten minutes later covered in bruises and piss and bawling his eyes out. Poor bastard had been thrown round the cubicle like a pea in a tin whilst trying to piss. He now works for Bloomberg.
(Sun 28th Dec 2008, 16:51, More)

» I don't understand the attraction

Birds Wot Got Flat-stomachs
I'd rather lose my mess on the discernible rise and curve of a naturally feminine belly than the featureless dishplate of some borderline anorexic.
(Sat 17th Oct 2009, 2:06, More)

» Hotel Splendido

Killer Fucking Spiders
Travelling up the east coast of Oz in 98 our tourbus headed about 2 hours inland so that we could experience some far flung fucking sheepstation or other that was reknowned for its homemade farm bread and being in the arse end of nowhere.
It seemed nice enough, being out in the remote countryside, the bread was indeed out of this world, and they laid on enough booze for us to drink ourselves stupid before we rolled our bedtime spliff, whereupon the farmer joined us and regaled us with fact after fact regarding the poisonous spiders he regularly found around his farm and the varying degrees of lethal injury they could inflict.
It was after said smoke however, that it transpired that the "dormitory" in which we were to spend the night was a converted barn. And when I say converted, I mean that they had put beds in it.
And so we settled down to spend the night, in THC-fuelled sheer paranoia, staring up at the dusty rafters overhead which were festooned to buggery with the thickest cobwebs you could ever hope not to see outside of a picture on the internet.
I actually pissed into an empty beer bottle at some point because I was too terrified to put my bare feet out of my sleeping bag and onto the floor.
Fucking BARN...
(Fri 18th Jan 2008, 10:46, More)